Losing My Religion
by RavenNevermore21
Summary: Castiel has fallen and lost his grace. Crowley has lost his throne in hell and his powers. And Dean is losing his brother. My answer to the ending of S8E23.


Cas looked down at his open, palms.

It burnt. It hurt. There was no way to describe it.

He'd lost everything.

God. Family. Friends... _Dean._

His garrison. His wings. His power. His grace...

His religion.

How are you supposed to build a life from nothing? How are you supposed to do that when everything you have ever loved, or depended on, or believed has slowly been torn away with every passing moment of your existence?

_What if it's the same this time? _The thought is a whisper. Nothing substantial. Just an insignificant passing thought.

But it's not.

It grows.

It _festers._

What's the point of tying if you're condemned to live the same pained and tortured life for an eternity?

So he sits there, staring at his palms unmoving. And it almost seems as if everything stops with him, the world just grinds to a halt. Oh the days pass, as surely as the angels fell, the sun came to rise after that endless night. But the people. The birds. Even the trees. They don't know, but they _feel _it, and in the end that's more than enough. Sometimes the not knowing is bliss. They live their lives far away from the silent fallen angel in an overcoat, but the nagging loss pulls at them. As if something is missing. Something that used to reside just out of sight, in the corner of their eye, has gone. Some even cry. They don't notice it.

The world is in a perpetual state of grief.

And then there's the older brother, _Dean_, cradling his baby brother, _Sam._

For Dean time can't pass slow enough, as he feels his brother wheeze and choke for his next breath he cries. Silently.

He has to be strong for Sammy. He has to make it right. But with no Bobby, no Ellen, no Joe, no angels, no demons. This time he can't see the light. As Dean loses hope, the only light in the boys' lives, so the light fades from Sam's eyes.

He's more aware of his little brother now than he ever was. The gentle creases beginning to form around his worn brown eyes. Just how long his hair was, just how big he'd grown.

Dean had survived hell. Beaten purgatory. Slayed angels and demons alike. Broke the first seal. Aborted the apocalypse. Destroyed the leviathans. Killed Azazel. Burnt and buried all of his friends and most of his family. Been betrayed at every turn. Found himself love and a home and then lost it all to save them. He'd had crap thrown at him every moment of his life...

And now he was losing his one reason to carry on.

He could feel him burning up through his clothes that were becoming drenched with sweat. Felt every creak of his brother's bones.

There was nothing he could do this time and he was truly breaking.

Without Sammy there was no life for him.

_Sammy_ was meant to grow old and have a wife a three whole white picket fence deal.

_He _was meant to be the one to die young. Die _bloody. _Die the soldier.

But there's also the devil.

The _King _of Hell.

Chained and quivering.

The weight of a millennia of years of torture, blackmail and killing. All bearing down on him in that one moment.

But most crushingly of all. The need to be _loved._

The guilt. The shame. The pure unadulterated _pain. _It was consuming him. His mind felt like it was beginning to crumble.

After all. There's only so much one mortal man can take...

But lightening hit. Thunder was like the biblical wrath of God. But he was gone. Deep down the angels knew it. So did the humans. They were just believing in an idea now. But the lightening, and the thunder and the storm continued.

That's when it happened.

The thunder struck in a nearby field. The Impala was hit by the light, gleaming. It seemed to reflect the light long after the lightning had dissipated. but it had done its job. The wall of the church was illuminated, and the shadow of one broad shouldered man cradling the limp body of his younger brother was played in front of Crowley's eyes.

Moose had saved him.

Sam. Sam had saved him.

And in giving him a life he was now dying.

Crowley couldn't take it. Maybe this was the way he had to start. Maybe this was the way he could start to make things better. He might not be able to save him. But he could say thank you. He owed the boy this much.

The idea consumed him, a burning pain and the need to do _something_ filled him.

He pulled and fought against his restraints, but-

But they were gone.

Shackles and choker laid broken on the floor.

Delerious with purpose he left no time to question and ran outside.

To the lashing rain. Crashing Thunder. Burning skies filled with falling angels...

Falling to his knees in front of the Winchesters he opened his mouth to speak-

and sobbed.

And Dean tried feebly to push him away, weakly trying to kick at him without causing Sam any discomfort. But nor could he help it any more, and his chest racked with pained sobs.

Their tears mixing with rain and blood Crowley and Dean grasped onto Sam as if he was their lifeboat.

And somewhere far away a silent fallen angel in an overcoat, sat alone in a clearing and cried. He still didn't move or make a noise. Just left the tears to pool up in his hands.

And then it stopped.

It all _really _stopped.

No illusion or hallucination, or wishful thinking this time. The rain stopped mid air. Trees bent half over in a now still gust of wind. Lightning bolts frozen in place.

And then it moved.

Unnoticeable, if it weren't for the pure silence.

Bones popping into place. The gentle rubbing of organs and tissues weaving themselves back together. The light popping of blood vessels reproducing.

Then. Almost deafeningly loud... Slow erratic thuds.

Growing louder and louder. The less noticeable swoosh of blood flowing through arteries and veins entwined with this.

Thuds so loud now they roared like thunder...

And then the rain was crashing down. burning at skin. Thunder so bright it was blinding.

But loudest of all a gasp.

A gasp and spluttered breath, wheezing turning to deep gulping lungfuls of air. _Life._

And they cried. Silently.

Crowley, hugging himself and gently rocking on his knees.

Castiel, with his head now turned to the sky.

Dean, cradling the living healthy body of his baby brother. Saved by the tears of a demon with remorse, an angel with no grace and a soldier who'd lost everything.

Some things were meant to be. Some things you simply cannot change. But sometimes mistakes happen. Some things that should never come to be occur.

So they will fight.

They will keep on living.

And save this damn world.


End file.
